Disimpassion'd Eyes
by darke wulf
Summary: Ares, Greek god of war, has become obsessed with a certain Gotham superhero, and he's determined to own him mind, body, and soul. Superman has a little something to say about this, however. Warnings: Violence, non-con groping


_Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not making money from them. Title is taken from "Demeter and Persephone" by Lord Alfred Tennyson. I don't own that either, and I'm still not making any money._

_Author's Notes: This was inspired by cycnus39's story, "Beginning", and was written with approval. My versions of most of the Greek gods are based primarily on their characters in "Xena: Warrior Princess" – exceptions to this include Athena and Hermes. My DC characters are based primarily on the cartoon versions (Batman TAS and Justice League), though I have thrown some elements from the comics in as well – specifically "Gods of Gotham"__1__ and "Emperor Joker"__2__._

_**Warnings: Violence, non-con groping.**_

_**Western Thrace**_

"Are you _still_ watching that mortal? What in Hades do you see in him? He's just another sniveling, worthless human." Strife's nasal voice pierced the through the silence blanketing the sheltered ruins of what had once been Ares' most glorious temple on Earth. Now only cracked floor slabs and a few crumbling columns remained to mark its location.

And one small, innocuous-looking pool near what was the center of the temple. For most, it would easily pass as just a large puddle of rain water gathered in a low part of the ruins. But for those with the powers of sight, should they make it past the protective wards around the former temple, it glows like a small star with mystic power. It is Ares' scrying pool, a gift from his mother thousands of years ago. Of late, he's been using it to keep track of one very particular mortal.

"_You_ would be the expert on sniveling," Ares grumbled, dark eyes not leaving the pool above which he stood. "_He_ is anything but. He's magnificent. I haven't seen such potential in centuries."

"I don't get it," Strife whined, jealous of the attention the human was receiving. He threw his wiry, leather-clad arms in the air, gesturing wildly. "There are thousands of warriors out there – dozens that are a hell of a lot more powerful than him. And more of these superheroes are popping up every year. What makes this him so special?"

"His spirit," Ares replied immediately, a satisfied smirk curling his lips as he watched his newest chosen battle via the pool. "His every action is meticulously planned, but beneath all that logic there's a dark, seething mass of passion. That passion is what lets him fight among demigods as an equal. He's their intelligence and their determination – the driving force behind their actions, and yet he's so _deliciously_ fragile. Breaking his soul, claiming that spirit, will be an exquisite pleasure."

Strife sighed, shaking his head. "You've finally lost your mind. You sound like that damned jester you're so fond of. Next you'll be claiming him as the other half of your soul."

In a flash, Ares had Strife's throat in his grip, crushing it as he held him dangling above the ground. "Don't forget your place, Strife. I am the master; you're nothing but a servant to my will. Just like he will be, once I break him." With that, Ares threw Strife into one of the few remaining columns, collapsing it on top of him and burying him in stone. "Get out of here and start doing your job, before I decide to use you to relieve some stress."

"As you wish, _Master_," Strife sneered, teleporting out of the temple remains.

"I don't know why you continue to put up with that sniveling worm." Enyo appeared next to Ares in a flash of flames, dark red hair billowing in the residual waves of power as her black eyes stared in disgust at the spot from which Strife had just left. Unconsciously her right hand tightened on the hilt of the sword strapped to her belt.

"He serves his purpose," Ares shrugged.

Enyo merely hummed noncommittally. Moving in front of Ares and wrapping her arms around his neck, she reached up and kissed him deeply, murmuring in encouragement as his hands explored her body. "And how go your plans for the big bad Batman?" she finally asked, bitten red lips pulled up in a wicked grin.

"Quite well," he answered, matching her grin with one of his own before leaning down to nip at her jaw.

"I still don't understand why you don't just go down and claim the mortal," she said, pulling away to move over to the scrying pool. "You have permission. Why all the cloak and dagger games?"

"Where would the fun in that be?" Ares inquired, coming up behind her and wrapping his arms around her. "He will be mine, but it will be by his own doing. It would be boringly easy to just steal him away and force him to bend under my will." Ares glanced back down at the scrying pool in time to see Batman laying out the last of the foes that stood before him and he grinned in delicious anticipation. "What fun is life without a little challenge?"

* * *

Arriving back at the Watchtower from a ten-day mission assisting the Green Lantern Corps, Batman, Green Lantern, Wonder Woman and the Martian Manhunter disembarked from the Javelin. Entering the Watchtower proper, they each split off to attend to their own interests. Batman made his way to the monitor womb, intent on entering his notes and analysis of the mission to the Team's database as soon as possible so he could get back to Gotham. He hated being pulled away from his city, but his particular expertise had been needed, and so he'd been unable to refuse.

Batman settled onto one of the console's chairs with a dramatic flair of his cape, immediately pulling up a mission report form and beginning to fill it out, fingers dancing over the keyboard. Suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, and he forcefully restrained his initial, violent instincts as he recognized the perpetrator.

"I've told you not to do that," he grumbled, though not as irritated with the interruption as he outwardly seemed. Still, he kept his body at tense attention, refusing to relax back into that familiar hold. "Repeatedly."

"You've told me not to sneak up on you – or try to at least. You haven't tried to keep me from hugging you since we started dating three months ago."

Giving up the fight for now, there was no one to see them and it had been over a week since he'd seen his lover, Bruce leaned back slightly, bringing up one gloved hand to rest on the powerful arms crossed over his chest.

"I need to get back to work," he insisted, though he did not pull away from the other man, which Clark took as permission to ignore his statement.

"You can take a five minute break to reassure your partner, who hasn't seen you in ten days, that you're safe."

Bruce turned his head slightly, giving Clark an unimpressed look. "We sent you updates every day."

Clark hummed in acknowledgement, but tightened his hold briefly. "And you would never deliberately hide any injury from your team."

"It was child's play. It took us longer to get there and back than it did to prove that the magistrate's son was innocent and find the actual thief."

"While also stopping a civil war and thwarting the plans of a planetary terrorist cell – going completely incommunicado in the process might I add – while I was stuck here."

"I don't need you to protect me," Bruce growled, stiffening again in offense.

Clark laid an apologetic kiss to the bottom of his jaw. "Maybe not, but I feel better when I can see, hear and feel for myself that you're all right."

"You would have been powerless there," Bruce replied. It was a sentence he had often repeated, in varying levels of anger, during the discussions to choose the response team members.

Clark stood, turned Bruce's chair around, then placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leant into Bruce's face. "There's more to me than my powers, you know. My only use isn't for heavy lifting or keeping drinks cool."

"It was a better use of said powers," Bruce replied, not backing down, "for you to stay here and cover for the rest of us."

"So you said."

"Do you really want to start this argument again? Now? After the fact?"

"No," Clark sighed, leaning closer and burying his face into Bruce's neck, breathing in the reassuring scent. "No, I don't. But you can't keep me off every mission on which I might get injured. Not unless you're going to let me do the same for you."

A chirp suddenly came over the earpiece in the cowl, alerting both of them to an incoming message from Gotham. "Batman? You available?" Oracle's familiar alto inquired.

"Here," he replied quietly, turning his attention away from Clark. "What's wrong?" Because he knew she wouldn't be bothering him so soon after he'd finished a mission unless something was wrong.

"I know you guys just got back, but you'll want to be getting back to Gotham, ASAP. Word on the street is there's a new heavy in town, who's recruiting as many thugs he or she can get their hands on. I was able to get confirmation from several of my sources of a recruitment meeting tonight. Nightwing was going to go, but with you back I assumed -"

"I'm on my way," he interrupted, immediately beginning to save and close out his work. "Let Nightwing know he can return to Bludhaven."

"Roger that. You'll find all the info I've got on the network. Meeting's supposed to start at two A.M., so you have a few hours to review it. Oracle out."

"Need any help?" Superman asked when he heard Oracle sign off.

"No."

"Come on, Bruce –"

Batman stiffened at that. Despite their relationship, there were some things he absolutely refused to allow. "No names in uniform. And you have monitor duty until six tomorrow morning."

Whatever his feelings for Clark, Gotham was still _his_ city. He didn't need others, who didn't understand Gotham or her people, bumbling their way in and upsetting the delicate balance his team and Gordon had _finally_ managed to bring about.

"Right," was Superman's exasperated reply. He stood up, moving away from Batman and folding his arms over his chest. Batman stubbornly ignored the twinge in his heart. "Of course. What was I thinking."

Batman swept out of the room without a single glance back.

* * *

The next afternoon, Clark was interrupted at his desk at the Daily Planet by a delivery. He shook his head with a reluctantly fond smile as he poked at the plastic dancing sunflower. Opening the thick ivory envelope that came with the toy, he found an invitation on equally expensive paper to his favorite restaurant in Gotham for that night. There was no personal message, but by now Clark knew an olive branch when Bruce extended one.

Clark finished the day in a significantly better mood than the one with which he'd started it.

When he arrived home he dropped his briefcase on his bed and removed his suit to reveal his Superman uniform. After securing his apartment he made his way towards Gotham. Minutes later he landed on an exterior patio of Wayne Manor. Moving towards the doors, he entered his password and stepped into the room he shared with Bruce when he stayed there.

He stripped, then jumped into the shower. A relaxing ten minutes later he was out and putting his Superman uniform back on. Over that, he pulled a pair of dark wash jeans and a dark red dress shirt.

Strapping on his watch, he left the room and made his way down the stairs to the ornate entry hallway.

"Good evening, Master Clark," Alfred greeted, approaching the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, Alfred," Clark replied, a grin on his face. "How've you been?"

"Quite well, sir, thank you for asking. And yourself?"

"Can't complain, Alfred."

"I suspect you could, sir, if you were so inclined. Master Bruce arrived home last night in quite the mood."

At that, Clark had to laugh, "That's all part of his charm."

"If you say so. Speaking of Master Bruce, he has advised that he will meet you at the diner. Are you ready to depart?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to drive me, Alfred – "

"Nonsense. I have errands to run, and so would be traveling into town regardless. There is no reason for you to arrive for dinner in your usual windblown state."

Knowing a losing battle when he saw one, Clark replied, "Thank you, then. I appreciate it."

Clark arrived at the small, out of the way diner that he and Bruce tended to frequent. It was a quaint, family owned operation, with red and white tablecloths on the tables, intimate lighting, and a wonderfully discreet staff. And the home style food was phenomenal, too.

Clark was shown back to their usual table and found Bruce, dressed in a light blue cashmere sweater that looked delicious on him, already seated.

"Good evening."

"Bruce," Clark grinned as he sat, his hand grasping Bruce's under the table briefly in greeting. "Thanks for the invitation."

Bruce shrugged, though the smirk on his face gave his attempted nonchalance away. "We need to debrief."

They both looked up as their waitress approached and gave their usual orders. "So how was your day?" Clark asked after taking a drink of water.

"It was fine, dear," Bruce snorted, "and yours?"

"Well, it started out pretty rotten, but took a turn for the better this afternoon. It's looking like it might end on a high note."

"Only if you're very, very good."

The small talk continued through most of their dinner. Clark knew he would eventually need to ask Bruce what was going on in Gotham, for his own peace of mind if nothing else, but he wanted the pleasant evening to last as long as it could.

Finally, when they were sipping on after-dinner coffees, he asked, "So, how did the meeting go last night?"

Bruce took a deep breath and slowly released it, remaining silent for several seconds. Clark was just about to give up and change the subject when he was finally answered.

"Could have been better. Whoever this new group is, they're smart enough to not send their higher ups to general recruitment casting calls. I was able to get a few leads, though. And no, I still don't need your help."

Now it was Clark's turn to try and control his frustration. But, as new as their relationship was, he knew he wanted it to last. He loved Bruce, grumpy, stubborn possessiveness and all. "Will you call, if you do? If it winds up being something bigger than just Gotham?" _If it winds up being something bigger than you should try to handle alone?_

One agonizing pause later, Clark got a single, grudging nod in reply.

* * *

Several nights later, Ares and Enyo waited, invisible to human eyes, as Batman stealthily entered the abandoned warehouse on the Gotham waterfront. Unknown to Batman, Ares was the true mastermind behind the new gang seemingly trying to gain a foothold in Gotham, and his true goal was to claim Batman himself, not Gotham.

"Look at him," Ares murmured, eyes devouring the detective as he scoured the warehouse for clues. "He's already found this first trap, even without the more blatant clues that Strife was supposed to have left him."

Enyo briefly glanced up from where she had been laving kisses along Ares' neck, though her nails continued to sketch chaotic patterns onto his chest. "I'm still surprised; I didn't think that intelligence was your thing," she purred, biting down and drawing a pleased hum from Ares.

"I'll admit, brutal violence is usually more to my liking. But the intensity he shows when he's on the trail; can you imagine having that sort of focus directed at yourself? It would be… intoxicating."

"Mmm," Enyo agreed, finally turning her complete attention to Batman. "He is quite the specimen. You still haven't told me whether you'd be willing to share. I bet he's gorgeous when he cries."

"And you think you'd be able to bring him to tears? He's not your typical weak-willed mortal."

"Ares love, have you ever known me to fail in breaking one of my pets, once I put my mind to it?"

"Keep in mind, this one is _mine_," Ares replied in a deceptively light tone. "I might be willing to let you play with him – eventually – but if you so much as look at him without my permission, I will end you."

"My, my – you are serious about this one, aren't you? I haven't seen you this possessive in centuries." Enyo smirked up at Ares, "It's a good look on you."

Batman, meanwhile, had nearly finished examination of the building. He safely placed a soil sample taken from several footprints he had found in his utility belt for future analysis, then stood and gave one last glance over the warehouse. The tracks had been the only thing of note he had found, yet every instinct was telling him there was something more there, something he just wasn't seeing. It was beyond frustrating.

Oracle's voice from his communicator interrupted his thoughts. "Batman, alerts are coming in from Arkham. Croc's just broken out and disappeared into the sewer system. Robin's en route."

"Tell him to hold position until I get there. ETA ten minutes," Batman directed, moving towards the window through which he had entered. Pushing Enyo away, Ares cast the spell that he had stolen from the Fates and revised with Hera's help to wear down and eventually bind Bruce to Ares. The original had almost worked once for him; he was confident with his new alterations it would not fail.

As the spell took hold, Batman paused, the feeling of unease deepening even further. He turned back to the warehouse interior, going so far as to switch to the infrared lenses in the cowl, but could find no indication of anyone or thing there other than himself. Shaking his head at his paranoia, he exited the warehouse and slid into the Batmobile, starting the car and racing towards the sewer access point nearest Arkham Asylum.

Enyo slipped back up to Ares' side, wrapping her arms around his waist and glancing up at him. "So, now that your work here is done, can we go play?"

"Not a chance," Ares replied, "I'm going to keep my eyes on the show. I'm not going to risk anyone interfering in my spell before it fulfills its purpose."

"Fine," Enyo pouted, moving away from Ares. "I'm going to see what trouble I can find."

"Stay out of Gotham. I don't want you screwing up my plans."

"Yes, yes, Hades forbid. You're not any fun when you get obsessed with these mortals like this, you know. Even if they are delicious."

"What can I say; I can only take so much of your tedious predictability before I need to take a break and kill something. I'm quickly reaching that point."

Enyo growled, pulling a knife from a sheath hidden at the back of her leather corset and fingering it contemplatively. Eventually, however, she replaced it, relaxed and shook her head. "It's just not worth it."

"Wise choice," Ares retorted, calling his powers down to press against Enyo in an overwhelming show of strength.

"As I said, no fun," Enyo grumbled before flashing away.

"That depends entirely upon whom you're asking." Ares stretched out his senses and located his quarry, then teleported to his location.

* * *

As Batman parked in the alley nearest to the manhole that was his destination, Robin stepped out of the shadows, moving closer when Batman emerged from the car. "Batman," Robin nodded slightly in greeting. "According to eyewitnesses, Croc hit the sewers about ten minutes ago. There's been no word of any further sightings on any of the scanners so far."

"Any news on who helped him out?"

"Not that I've heard. Maybe he managed on his own?"

"Unlikely. Croc doesn't have that kind of brain power. Someone broke him out; it's just a question of why."

"And who."

"My bet's on the new organization we've been tracking. Croc's usual playmates are all accounted for, and we know they've been recruiting muscle."

"Makes sense."

"Hmm…" Batman murmured as he lifted the manhole cover, shoving it to the side enough for he and Robin to get through then checking to make sure the coast was clear. "Keep your eyes and ears open," he instructed before dropping down into the tunnels below.

"And my nose closed," Robin sighed before following his mentor down.

They walked through the sewers for nearly a mile, following the trail that Croc had left behind. Batman was uneasy; such an obvious trail was unusual. This was obviously a trap, but Batman was determined to see Croc back in Arkham before he could cause serious trouble.

Suddenly, without warning, Batman was thrown up against the sewer wall. "Robin!" he cried out in warning, but quickly saw that he had been too late, too slow, as there Robin hung, fighting desperately to get free as blood ran down his neck where Croc's claw-like fingernails punctured it.

His head felt strange, muddy, confused, but he forced himself to stand and threw himself at the mutant, ignoring the lifeless way Robin's body fell to the ground after being released. Robin was alive, there was no other possible option. He was alive; he would be fine. And Batman would make sure that he stayed that way.

Ruthlessly, Batman attacked Croc. Although the other did surprisingly and uncharacteristically well defending himself, eventually Batman had him trapped against one slime-slick wall, his face twisted in rage as he drew back his fist.

Then the villain looked up at him with shining, desperate, _familiar_ eyes.

"-an! Batman!" The words were distant and unclear, as if being shouted over a long distance. Batman shook his head, desperately trying to clear his head. It was clearly Robin's voice calling him, and Robin's eyes somehow in Croc's face, but Robin's body still lay motionlessly on the sewer floor, covered in blood. Batman closed his eyes, forcing himself to focus on those indistinct words. "Dammit, Batman, snap out of it!"

Batman nearly as the cloud finally lifted, freeing him from the vision in which he had been immersed. As he came back to himself, he realized to his horror that he had been holding Robin up to the wall, not Croc. And judging by the state of the teen, the battle he had just fought had also been against Robin.

Batman quickly released Robin and backed away, frantically searching the surroundings to find what could have possibly caused him to turn on his partner. Scarecrow was still in Arkham, but he checked the air analyzer in his gauntlet anyway, only to find that there was no unexpected or unidentifiable particles present.

"What the hell was that all about?" Robin demanded, rubbing his neck and glaring at Batman.

"I... I don't know," Batman replied with untypical hesitation, still battling back the last of the fog. "I was… it was… not real. A vision…"

"Like under fear gas?" Robin asked, anger quickly turning to concern.

"No, this was… different somehow… I'm not…" Batman forced himself to straighten, to regain his focus and composure. He turned to Robin with a grimly determined face. "Go back to the cave. It's late, and you have school tomorrow."

Robin's glare shifted to a look of incredulousness for a moment before returning twice as intense. "What? You've got to be joking. You attack me, nearly kill me, and you expect me to just leave you alone against who knows what, with no explanation as to what caused said behavior?"

"I'll be fine."

"No, you really won't," an unknown voice broke in.

Batman spun towards the new arrival, noticing as he did so that Robin seemed frozen in place. "Who are you," he demanded of the dark haired, leather-clad stranger in front of him, shifting away from him and closer to Robin even as a small part of him seemed drawn to the man.

"Oh, it's too early in the game for you to know that. But I just couldn't resist butting in on your conversation. Because you aren't going to be fine; you're going to be _mine_."

With that the stranger disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived.

"Well?" Robin's impatient inquiry broke Batman from his near frantic study of the surroundings.

"What?"

Robin's aggressive stance relaxed and his expression turned concerned once again. "Are you sure you're all right. You're acting weird, even given current circumstances."

"I'll be fine," he repeated, not allowing any of his doubt to enter his voice, forcing himself to believe the words. It didn't matter who he was up against. He'd figure out what was going on, and he'd take care of this new adversary. Glancing at Robin, who was still rubbing at his neck, Batman started coming up with plans to keep Robin otherwise occupied and, hopefully, safe.

* * *

Three days – and two more incidents – later, Batman was no closer to figuring out what was wrong. He had managed to track down and recapture Croc, but the visions that continued to afflict him made any sense of satisfaction impossible. It was then, while Bruce was running yet more tests on the soil he had gathered from the warehouse trying to identify from where it had come, desperate for any clue, that Superman decided to drop in.

"Bruce," he greeted as he landed a short distance from where Batman was working.

Bruce merely grunted in reply, not looking up from the computer readouts he was studying.

Clark sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, preparing himself for the battle he knew was ahead. "Robin told me you're sending him to Bludhaven for the weekend."

"It will be good for him to have more experience in cities other than Gotham."

"So you wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for a bit in Metropolis?"

"Don't push me, Clark."

"What's going on, Bruce? Robin told me about what happened in the sewers. He says you've been acting strange ever since."

"Something caused me to attack Robin, while thinking he was Killer Croc. I'm trying to determine what."

Clark studied Bruce, easily seeing how tense and frustrated the other man was. "That wasn't the only time it happened, was it?"

"… No."

"You're sure it's not some new strain of fear gas, or something the Joker dreamed up?"

"Yes, I'm sure!" Bruce shouted, throwing his arm across the worktable and sending the equipment on it flying to the floor. "I've checked and double checked the blood work, environmental sensors – everything there is to check. There's nothing there; there's nothing wrong. This should not be happening!"

Growling, Bruce turned back to the computer bank, where he had been running a facial recognition search for the man he had seen during the first event in the sewers. As he passed by Clark, he was caught up in strong arms.

"Let go of me, Clark," Bruce murmured darkly, not bothering to try to struggle.

"What aren't you telling me, Bruce?" Clark asked quietly, leaning down until his forehead touched Bruce's. "There's something more going on. Please, let me help you."

Bruce closed his eyes to avoid that pained blue gaze. He was trying to protect Clark; he was not going to admit to what he was certain was the actual cause of his problems. Not when it was one of the few things to which Clark was vulnerable.

"Bruce, please."

But he was so tired. He had been up for over three days straight, not trusting himself to sleep when even awake he was losing control of his mind and body. He had no idea how to combat the spell or curse that had obviously been placed on him. He was helpless and frustrated and just… so tired.

Relaxing into Clark's arms, lowering his head to Clark's chest, Bruce released a weary sigh. "There was a man, the first time – in the sewers. He somehow seemed to… freeze time, or at least Robin. He just appeared out of nowhere, threatened me, and disappeared again. Then Robin started moving again, with no knowledge of ever having been frozen. Whoever he was, he didn't leave anything behind to prove he'd been there. He… he seemed to take credit for whatever's happening to me and… he… he laid claim to me."

Clark growled low in his chest, tightening his hold as if that would be enough to keep Bruce safe and sane and _his_. "Have you talked to Zatanna or Blood yet?"

"No. I wanted to rule out everything else first. It was possible that his appearance had been part of the… incident."

"I think you should talk to them."

"I'll go see Jason," Bruce nodded, not raising his head.

"Tomorrow."

That did cause Bruce to look up and meet Clark's eyes with an unimpressed stare.

"Bruce, it's obvious you haven't been sleeping. Plus it's nearly two in the morning. Blood won't appreciate a visit now. Come up to bed and get some sleep."

Bruce considered putting up a fight, but he had to grudgingly admit that Clark was right. He had at least five hours before Jason would be awake and, after coming dangerously close to killing a mugger during the last… occurrence he was leery of going back out on the streets. And yes, he'd missed Clark dammit. They hadn't been able to spend the night together since just before this whole mess started. It would be nice.

"Three hours."

"Five. Then breakfast."

"Clark – "

"Don't make me wake up Alfred."

Bruce refused to reply to that, merely turned towards the elevator up to the manor. Clark smiled, knowing he'd won, and followed after.

* * *

Jason Blood was enjoying a cup of tea as he sat reading in his study, seated in a plush chair located to one side of the fireplace. Without looking up from his book, he asked, "What seems to be the problem, Bruce?"

Batman remained standing rigidly near the door through which he had just entered, his body concealed by his flowing cape. "I need you identify the spell I'm currently under, and tell me how to break it."

"Spell?" Jason asked, concerned and surprised. Placing his teacup and book down on a nearby end table, he focused his senses on the other man, but eventually had to shake his head. "Are you certain? I cannot sense any magic on your person."

"There has to be a spell! A curse; something!" Batman snarled, stepping towards Jason menacingly. "I've run every test, completed every meditation exercise, done everything I can think of. And I'm still seeing these… illusions."

"I see. What can you tell me about what you're experiencing?"

Bruce remained stubbornly silent, drawing a tired sigh from Jason. "Bruce, I cannot help you if you don't give me all the information you have. These illusions you mentioned?"

"They… there's been five so far. There doesn't seem to be any sort of common trigger."

"And as for the subject matter?" Jason prompted when Bruce's pause began to stretch out.

"Always violent. I'm with others – Robin, various members of the League, Gordon – it varies. Then something happens, someone attacks them. I try to get to them, but I'm also assaulted, or thrown to the side and left groggy, something that keeps me from defending whoever is being attacked. By the time I'm able to do anything, it's… too late. And I'm left fighting whatever or whoever attacked on my own."

Jason studied his friend closely. "What else? There's something else bothering you about these."

"Besides the fact that my body actually reacts to these attacks, resulting in me striking out at both Robin and a mugger I was securing for Gordon while thinking I was fighting someone else?" Bruce asked, irritation dripping from his voice.

"Bruce, please," Jason replied, standing and moving towards the other man. "I want to help you; you know that. But you _must_ tell me everything you know in order for me to do so. Please."

Bruce dropped his head first, moving towards the fireplace and away from Jason. "When I'm fighting," he began, words choppy, as if he had to fight to get each one out, "no matter how strong the enemy was when they were fighting against my allies, when I attack, I'm somehow able to overpower them on my own. Even those I… wouldn't ordinarily be able to, at least not in a one-on-one fight. I'm able to restrain them every time; every enemy."

"And what do you do with them, once you have them restrained?" Jason asked, sensing that they were approaching the heart of the matter.

"I wake up, or break free."

"I should have been more specific," Jason grumbled, doing his best to remain patient. "What do you _want_ to do to them, while trapped in these visions, before you awaken?"

"That's irrelevant," Bruce grumbled insistently, turning back to face Jason. "Do you know what's going on, or not?"

"Bruce," Jason sighed, shaking his head, "I would not ask if I didn't need to know. I have suspicions of what this affliction might be, but I need your answer to help me know for certain. What do you want to do; what does your blood call for, when fighting those adversaries?"

Bruce remained silent for several minutes. Jason was about to give up and tell Bruce what he thought, regardless of how much he could tell Bruce needed to talk about what was happening to him, when Bruce finally replied. His voice was uncharacteristically hesitant and unsure. "I want… some force _compels _me to… to make certain that they can cause no further harm."

Jason's heart dropped as his fears were confirmed. "So these visions are trying to entice you to cross that one line you've always refused; they are trying to cause you to murder in cold blood."

Once again, Bruce remained silent.

"I am afraid I have no good news for you, my friend. This is not some simple curse that any magic user could cast. I know of only two spells that could cause such illusions, though what you've described does not match either exactly. Regardless, I can say with certainty that any sort of curse that would bring about these effects – particularly in someone as strong-willed as you – would take enormous magical energy to cast. You should be incandescent with the magical energies of the spell. And yet, even now, I cannot detect anything amiss. Would you allow me a deeper scan?"

Bruce paused, uncomfortable with the thought and yet knowing he had little choice if he was going to find out what was wrong. He gave a single, jerky nod. Jason rose from his chair and moved next to Bruce. He raised both of his hands, settling them on either side of Bruce's face as he delved into the other man's aura.

Without warning he was thrown back, hitting one of the bookcases and causing several books to fall down around him on the floor.

"Jason!" Bruce cried out, shifting to move towards where the other man lay stunned, only to find that he could not do so.

With a flashing ball of fire, the stranger from before appeared, once again dressed in black leathers with a large sword hanging at his side. He seemed to be completely ignoring Bruce, concentrating his anger on Jason. "You dare to try to interfere in my plans, demon?" he roared, a glowing hand coming up and violently jerking to one side – a motion that Jason's body followed, slamming into another bookcase with a groan of pain and falling face first onto the ground.

"Stop it!" Bruce yelled, straining each muscle, trying to free himself from whatever force kept him immobile.

While he was unsuccessful in that endeavor, he did manage to get the stranger's attention.

"Ah, Bruce…" he purred, sauntering confidently towards where Batman stood frozen.

Once again Bruce was struck by a strong sense of recognition. There was something about this man that was _so_ familiar…

The stranger raised one hand, stripping Bruce of his cowl and then running his fingers down the side of his face. When he reached Bruce's neck he grasped it, though he didn't put enough strength into his hold to hinder Bruce's breathing. "I would apologize for taking out your pet demon, but I couldn't have him interfering with my fun."

"A..Ares…" Jason's weak voice called both of their gazes back to him. He had somehow managed to bring himself to a semi-upright position against a bookcase.

"Interfering scum," Ares growled, unsheathing his sword. "I should do the world a favor and take your head as a trophy."

"Gone, gone, the form of man…" Jason began chanting, no longer able to hold his demon back.

A single slice from Ares' sword and fire exploded from the fireplace, causing the room to erupt in wild flames as the books and furnishings caught fire. "Go back to Hades' halls where you belong, beast."

Ares turned then, striding back to Bruce and wrapping his muscled arms around his frozen form. "Say goodbye, Bruce." With no more warning, he fell into darkness.

* * *

Superman had just finished turning a would-be arsonist over to the Metropolis police when his Justice League communicator chirped at him. "Superman here."

"Superman, you need to come up to the Watchtower," Wonder Woman instructed, sounding grim.

"Why? What's wrong?" he asked, already flying towards the space station.

"It's Batman. He's been taken."

"What?!" Superman shouted, speeding up his ascent.

Diana sighed, "I'll explain what little I know when you arrive. Watchtower out."

Superman stormed into the medical bay on the Watchtower, demanding, "What's going on, Diana?"

Diana, J'onn and an injured Jason Blood, attached to an IV and laying in one of the hospital beds, looked up at his entry. Jason had clearly been in a serious fight – his visible skin was covered in burns and bruises, and one arm was immobilized in a sling.

Diana stepped towards Clark, hands coming up to grasp his shoulders. "Clark, calm down."

Clark twisted away from her grasp, moving into the room and turning to face all three of the other occupants, "I'd rather someone explain to me what's happened to Bruce, and where we can find him."

"I can answer the former, Superman," Jason cut in, "though regrettably not the latter."

"What. Is. Going. On?" Superman growled, patience gone, sounding remarkably like his missing lover.

"Bruce came to me this morning for help regarding a curse with which he was afflicted," Jason explained.

"I knew he was going to talk to you. Were you able to identify what was causing his attacks?"

"Indeed. I couldn't sense any magic on him, but from what he described to me I knew, if it was a spell, it must have been cast by a supremely powerful entity. I asked him if I could do a deeper scan, hoping to find some indication of what the curse might be or who had cast it. Before I could do so, a man burst into the room in an explosion of flames. To cut to the chase, he incapacitated me and disappeared again, this time taking Bruce with him."

"So we have no idea who has Bruce or where he might be?"

"Not so," Jason corrected, looking down at his blanket-covered legs. "I recognized him – it would be hard, in fact, for anyone with the sight to not do so."

Clark forced himself to take a deep breath, knowing he wasn't going to like what was coming by the grim faces of those around the table. "Blood – who has Bruce?"

"Ares."

"Ares? Is that a new villain?"

"No Clark," Diana corrected, "Ares - the Greek god of war."

"But wait," Clark shook his head in denial, recalling the report he had read from the last time Ares had appeared, "I thought he'd agreed to leave mankind alone?"

"So did I," Diana grimly answered. "I do not know what would cause him to break his vow and come against Bruce."

"How do we find out?"

"I will attend the temples of the five goddesses on Themyscira. Hopefully one of them will have the answers we seek."

"There's got to be something else we can do." Clark pulled his hands through his hair in frustration.

"There are scrying rituals I can attempt," Jason spoke up, "though against a god's powers I'm not sure that they will provide any results."

"It's worth a shot, Blood, thank you."

"Do not lose hope, Clark. Bruce is strong. He will survive whatever Ares has planned until we find him."

"I hope so, Diana," Clark replied, moving to one of the windows and looking down on the Earth where his lover – hopefully, Rao, please don't let Ares have taken him to some other dimension – was somewhere waiting for him. "I hope so."

* * *

Diana knelt in front of the white marble altar of the Temple of Athena on Themyscira, hoping for better luck than she had found at the previous two temples she had visited. "Wise Athena, please aid me in my search for my teammate. Show me where Ares has taken him, that I may save him from whatever evils he has planned. Bruce is a worthy warrior, loyal and courageous -"

"Indeed, he is," a calm, powerful voice interrupted. "Much to his detriment."

"Lady Athena!" Diana immediately further prostrated herself in salute of the dark-haired goddess that had appeared before her.

"Diana," Athena nodded, regally stepping down from the altar upon which she had appeared, ivory robes floating around her on the waves of her power. "Unfortunately, we have little time to waste. My half-brother has had his eye on your Bruce Wayne since last they met."

"That long?"

"Indeed. But his vow kept him from his prize until now."

"Why? What has changed, that he was able to attack Bruce?"

"He was asked by Hera to remove the threat that she saw Wayne to be. It was her express permission for action against this one man that allowed Ares to circumvent his vow."

"What!?" Diana cried, rising to her feet in shock. Quickly she regained her senses, and stepped away from the goddess, though she did not return to her knees. "Forgive me my outburst, my Lady, but I do not understand. Why would Hera do such a thing?"

"She fears for you and your welfare."

"My welfare? What possible threat does she think that Bruce poses to me that she would resort to allowing Ares such freedom?"

Athena did not immediately answer, instead she stood gazing out of the temple's entrance for several minutes. Diana reigned in her temper as best she could, but couldn't help impatiently shifting in place as she awaited the goddesses' answer.

Finally Athena sighed, and turned back to regard Diana with a sympathetic expression all the more terrifying for the unusual sight it was on the typically remote goddess' face. "Hera is seldom rational when she allows her emotions to control her actions; such is the case now. Ares is enthralled with Wayne, as I have not seen him in centuries. He is determined to possess him, body, mind and soul. Towards this goal, he was able to convince Hera that Wayne is a dangerous threat to you; that he holds your heart, and that you had thus decided to give up your immortality to live, age, and die by his side."

"But there is no truth in these claims! The only love between Bruce and I is that of comrades-in-arms. He has found his soul's mate, as I hope to one day find mine."

"I know this, child. But Hera has never allowed herself to be swayed by reality once she decided upon a course of action. She has granted Ares possession of Bruce Wayne's soul."

Diana could not hold back her cry of dismay at hearing of this betrayal. Athena paused, and brought one hand up to grasp Diana's shoulder. "I have watched this mortal since you joined together as a team. He is a true warrior, skilled and intelligent, and deserves a better fate than what Ares has planned. But do not lose yourself to despair. There is one small pearl of hope."

Forcefully bringing herself under control, Diana looked up and met Athena's pale grey eyes. "What hope?"

"Bruce Wayne walks the knife's edge between darkness and light. His goals are well intentioned, but his methods are oft times of questionable merit. And yet there is one rule to which he has always held himself; that one precept which has kept his soul pure. For Ares to claim Wayne completely, he must cause him to break his one unbreakable law. He must bring him to kill in cold blood."

"But these… spells are nothing more than illusions controlled by Ares; they do not reflect Bruce's true intent."

"Illusions they may be, and yes, they do leave Wayne slightly susceptible to Ares' will. But should he kill, driven beyond anger by Ares or not, trapped in an illusion or not, his soul will be forfeit."

"Take me to Hera."

Athena raised one eyebrow at Diana's demand.

"Please," Diana begged. "You yourself have indicated that you disagree with this travesty. Take me to Hera that I may plead my case before her, as she seems intent on ignoring me when I attempt to speak to her while on Earth."

"Very well," Athena finally agreed. "I will take you before Hera, and I will add my voice to yours in opposition to this act."

"Thank you, my Lady," Diana breathed, muscles loosening with relief.

"Do not thank me yet. Hera sees Wayne as a threat. You defending him will only make her more certain of that being true. Convincing her otherwise will prove difficult, if not impossible."

"I might be able to help with that," a third voice suddenly spoke up from the entrance of the temple. "But we're going to need to pick up another passenger before we leave."

* * *

Bruce awoke to a darkly furnished bedroom with no obvious doors or windows. He was lying on the burgundy-sheeted bed, dressed only in a pair of loose linen drawstring pants. His uniform was nowhere to be seen. In fact, the only things in the room were the bed and an armchair and sofa situated perpendicular to each other in a far corner with a short table in between. Several torches, glowing with a strange reddish-tinted light, were set in the wall around the perimeter of the room.

He didn't have long to study his surroundings before Ares once again appeared in front of him. The supposed gods' eyes traveled up Bruce's body in obvious appreciation, causing Bruce to grind his teeth together and tighten his hands into fists. Ares had already proven that he could take command – or at least freeze – Bruce's body at will, and so Bruce forced himself to not attack. He did, however, rise from the bed, refusing to be at such a disadvantage.

"Ares," he snarled, irritated with the gods' obvious amusement. "What do you want with me?"

"So rude," Ares replied, smirking as he crossed his arms over his chest, "What would dear Martha think?"

Bruce clenched his jaw, refusing to give Ares any more reaction to his obvious barb.

"Yes, Bruce Wayne, I know exactly who you are, and everything about you," Ares gloated, slowly circling around Bruce. "While it was Phobos who possessed you when last we met he is, in the end, a mere personification of the fear _I _induce. His thoughts and memories are mine to access if I so desire.

"You intrigued me; a mortal with a will strong enough to fight off the possession of one of my sons – even if it was the weakest of my children. So I stripped Phobos of the memories of his time in your body, taking everything before I banished him to Hades."

"And what about the vow you made at the same meeting, to keep out of the affairs of mankind?"

Ares stopped in front of Bruce. "That's the joy of loopholes, Bruce. I have no ill intent – active or otherwise – against mankind. I'm not here to incite conflict, or woo followers, or even cause trouble for the Amazon." Ares leaned in with a leer, whispering into Bruce's ear, "I'm just here for you."

Straightening, Ares shrugged. "Besides, I have permission to be here."

"Permission?"

"Indeed. It seems Hera is a little… concerned… about her poor, naïve little Diana's relationship with you. Hera has no desire to see her give up her immortality for an undeserving mortal. She mentioned how much she wished that you'd just disappear. I, being the devoted son that I am, graciously volunteered to see it done."

"You could have just explained to Hera that I'm no threat to Diana's immortality," Bruce replied dryly, "and that she's not actually interested in me romantically."

"That would have been rather counterproductive. Besides, Hera has always preferred to err on the side of safe, rather than sorry. And so now, _you_ are _mine_.

"The plans I have for you, Bruce Wayne," Ares grinned, right hand reaching forward to roughly squeeze Bruce's groin.

Bruce ruthlessly suppressed his body's desire to jerk away from the unwelcome touch, knowing it would be pointless and refusing to give Ares the pleasure of a reaction. "From Diana's tales, I thought warrior princesses were more your speed."

"Warriors definitely – the princess part is optional," Ares replied, continuing to grope Bruce while his free arm came up to wrap Bruce's shoulders in an iron-strong grip around. Leaning in again, he lowered his head down to firmly bite at his neck.

"And what about the visions?" Bruce asked, hoping to distract Ares from this new assault.

Ares continued to place sharp bites along Bruce's neck, licking up the small traces of blood resulting from those that broke the skin. Not pausing in his ministrations, he instead hummed inquiringly.

"The visions you've been forcing on me; what's the point?"

Ares gave one final, vicious bite to the juncture of Bruce's neck and shoulders – Bruce felt the blood leaking from the wound and working its way down his chest – before pulling back slightly. "Now that would spoil the surprise."

Just then a new – being – appeared in the room near the sofa. The man was unhealthily thin, and had wild curls of dark brown hair. "Strife!" Ares bellowed, dropping his hold of Bruce completely and striding towards the newcomer. "I told you I wasn't to be disturbed."

"Well excuse me," Strife replied, sounding disturbingly like an angsting teenager, "but I thought you might like to know that the Amazon has convinced Aphrodite _and_ _Athena_ to sponsor her in her request to Hera. She's planning to plead with to her to force you to give up your little toy."

"What? How in Hades' name did she manage to get them to commit to her cause?"

"Apparently your boy toy's a favorite of Athena – as unlikely as that sounds. She's of the opinion that a 'warrior with Wayne's heart' deserves a chance to at least defend himself in a fair fight. And Aphrodite's just a sucker for _true love_," Strife sneered.

"They will not take him from me!" Ares strode back towards Bruce, forcing him up against a wall and wrapping his hand around his neck again, only this time exerting enough pressure to make breathing difficult.

Ares then plundered Bruce's mouth in a violent kiss that soon turned bloody when he bit through Bruce's bottom lip. Bruce brought both arms up to force Ares away from him, but the god was immoveable. Only when Bruce started to black out from lack of oxygen did Ares pull back slightly, loosening his hand at the same time to allow Bruce to take shallow breaths. "I wanted to savor breaking you, but the Amazon is forcing my hand. This isn't going to be pleasant for you."

Before Bruce could ask what Ares meant, he felt a sudden pressure coming down upon him, as if he had suddenly been teleported deep under the ocean depths. Then Bruce's world dissolved into nightmares.

* * *

"Aphrodite!" Diana cried out in surprise when she turned towards the new voice. Bowing quickly, Diana asked, "My Lady, you have an idea as to how to convince Hera to rescind her deal with Ares?"

"Naturally," the blonde goddess replied, sauntering into the temple, gauzy pink wrap trailing behind her.

"This should be entertaining," Athena interjected, clearly unimpressed with the other goddess.

"Hey, we're dealing with an issue of love here. Which happens to be my area of expertise, thank you," Aphrodite retorted, spreading her hands then motioning towards herself.

"If I may be so bold," Diana broke in, not wanting the goddesses to get distracted by their mutual antipathy, "what are your plans, my Lady?"

"It's simple," Aphrodite shrugged. "You said it yourself, Diana. Bruce Wayne and Kal-El are true soul mates. They have found each other and joined together. Short of Kal's death, there's not much anyone can do to turn Bruce from him."

"Hera is already aware of this, Aphrodite," Athena sneered. "It was not enough to stay her hand."

"She knew abstractly that they were lovers. If she's actually faced with their bond, which is stronger than any I've seen in years, I think she'll have a harder time ignoring the facts. Which is why we need to pick up Kal before we head to Olympus."

Wordlessly, Diana turned to Athena.

"There is little harm it could do to take the Kryptonian with us," she admitted.

"I'll let him know we're on our way," Diana told them, pulling out her communicator.

"Tell him to wear his formal robes, not his uniform," Aphrodite directed. "A little extra pizzazz is never a bad thing. Not that there's anything wrong with skintight spandex on a body like that. But with Hera prim and proper is definitely the way to go."

"As if you know anything about –"

"I will tell him," Diana daringly spoke over Athena's jab, patience quickly running to an end.

Aphrodite just smiled knowingly at her.

* * *

Pain. Blood and pain. Forced to watch your team, your children be killed, their bodies desecrated. Being torn limb from limb, dying in excruciating bits and pieces only to be revived and go through it all over again. Each day a new, terrible horror. Memories, safely held by another, now returned in one mind-breaking instant. Death and life and death and…

… Madness.

* * *

Superman, Wonder Woman, Athena and Aphrodite appeared just outside the doors of the gods' main palace on Mount Olympus. Clark had had absolutely no hesitations when Diana explained the situation and asked him to come with them. He was just relieved to have something that he could finally do to hopefully help Bruce.

As he took in his surroundings, Clark could feel his mind fragmenting as it tried to process them. The buildings were of the same style as the ancient Greek temples, but they were obviously made with no normal material or means. They glowed with an eye-piercing light, walls and ceilings meeting in inconceivable angles and joints that defied physics.

"Come," Athena spoke, shepherding Clark and Diana into the palace, "into the palace, quickly. The sights of Olympus place too much pressure on mortal minds for you two to maintain your sanity if exposed too long to its wonders, even while under my protection."

The interior was better, if only because it limited their exposure by merit of it being enclosed. Still, it was more than a little disconcerting to be walking through corridors that followed no logical format. Clark had initially tried to keep track of their path in his head, but the impossibility of it caused him to give up.

Reasonably quickly they arrive in a glittering, golden throne room somehow as large as at least five football fields and with no discernible ceiling. There was a scattering of gods and goddesses lounging around on various pieces of furniture. At the front of the hall was a raised dais with two large, gleaming white thrones. It was towards these that Athena led the group.

On one throne sat an older man, his long white hair tied back with a leather thong. He wore a bright red, gold-lined robe over a high-collared, form-fitting black outfit that highlighted his muscular build. Next to him sat a woman in a royal blue dress, also high-collared though the neckline was cut in a v. The top of the dress was tight, with what looked to be peacock feathers decorating it. From the waist down the dress fell away in loose waves of silk. Both man and woman wore golden crowns on their heads.

"Zeus, Hera," Athena greeted, as the entire group bowed.

"What is your purpose, Athena, bringing this pair before us?" Zeus asked, studying Clark and Diana, though the mischief on his face made Clark think that he knew exactly why they were there and was looking forward to seeing Hera taken down a peg. At least based on what Greek mythology Clark knew, the relationship between Zeus and Hera was a contentious one at best.

"We are here to right a wrong, hopefully before it becomes too late," Athena replied.

"No," Hera declared. Her face might well have been carved from stone for all the emotion she showed.

"But great Hera," Diana protested, moving forward a step.

"I said no. I will not change my mind, daughter. You were meant for great things. I will allow no one to threaten that destiny."

"Bruce threatens nothing!" Diana cried. "I love him, yes, but as a shield-brother, not as a romantic partner.

"You pursued him once."

"Yes, but I quickly realized that we were not to be. He and Kal-El –"

"I am aware that he is currently in a relationship with another. That means nothing. Men are capricious creatures. There is nothing to say that he will not tire of his current paramour and turn to you."

"Actually, there is." Aphrodite moved forward. "And I can prove it, if you'd be so good as to call Ares here, and ask him to bring Bruce with him."

"You dare to command me?" Hera growled, straightening in her throne.

Zeus turned to regard his wife. "I think it was a reasonable request. If you have, in fact, allowed harm to come to an innocent man, it is only right that we seek to rectify that error."

"No man is innocent, especially not that one."

"His soul is pure," Athena challenged. "What he does, he does for the good of others. He is more than willing to put himself in harm's way to protect the helpless, and not-so-helpless," she continued, slanting a wry grin at Clark as she spoke.

"There is an easy way to determine this. Hermes, come."

In a blur of motion too fast for even Clark's eyes to follow, a younger god appeared in front of the throne. He was dressed in white, and wings adorned his shoes and helmet. "You called, great Zeus?"

"Indeed. Find Ares. Tell him to come before us immediately, and to bring this Bruce Wayne with him."

"It shall be done," Hermes replied, bowing before he disappeared. Clark's heart sped up as he realized he might finally be reunited with Bruce.

"Now, I suspect we all know who we all are, but for the sake of formalities allow me to introduce myself. I am Zeus, King of Olympus. And this is my lovely wife and queen, Hera. Now, I've met our dear Diana before, but you," Zeus pointed to Clark, "I have not. Officially, at least."

"Kal-El of Krypton, sir," Clark replied.

"Hmm. And Clark Kent of Earth, and Superman of the Justice League. You are a man of many guises, Kryptonian."

"Of you say so, sir."

"Isn't he cute," Aphrodite smiled, reaching up to pinch one of Clark's cheeks. "Such a gentleman."

Before Clark could react, Ares, Hermes and Bruce appeared in the throne room. Ares stood regarding Zeus defiantly, but Clark only had eyes for –

"Bruce!" he cried out when he saw his lover, curled into a ball on the floor, rocking himself back and forth. "Great Rao, Bruce!"

Without thought, Clark flew to Bruce side, wrapping his arms around the other man as best he could. Then amidst the heartrending denials that left Bruce's lips, Clark heard something that made his blood run cold. "I _can't_ close my eyes… I see _him_… and it… and me… _pieces_ and… parts… can't close…"3

"No," Clark gasped as he realized that somehow Ares had given Bruce back the memories of each and every excruciating death and torment he had suffered at the hands of Emperor Joker. "No!" Still holding Bruce in his arms, he glared up at Ares. "What did you do, you monster? How could you possibly force those memories on him again?!"

Ares sneered back. "You've only got yourself to blame. This wouldn't have been necessary if you hadn't forced my hand. But I wasn't going to risk losing my pet when I finally had him in my grasp."

Clark didn't even stop to consider. His eyes glowed red as his heat vision shot towards the god of War.

Only to smash up against an invisible barrier. "None of that, please," Zeus said, the apparent source of the barrier. "Hera may have spoiled him rotten, but Ares is still my son. I would thank you to not forget that."

"Your _son_ has forced my _soul mate_ to remember being brutalized and tormented by an all-powerful madman. He was never meant to get those memories back; they'll wind up killing him."

"No they won't," Ares argued, smirking down at Clark. "I won't let that happen. They were just the fastest way of ensuring that I was able to finalize my claim on him."

Athena shook her head. "He hasn't killed anyone, Ares; his soul is still pure."

"Only because Speedy here interrupted me before I could grab the lunatic, or some other body to serve in his place. My dear Bruce won't even hesitate, given the chance."

"He isn't _yours_!" Clark growled, enraged. "His soul is still his own."

"Only based on a technicality! He is ready to kill; he is willing to kill."

"But he has not yet done so," Zeus broke in.

"You gave your pledge, Zeus," Hera said, a frown on her face. "On your word, you would stay out of the affairs of the Amazons. You pledged to leave them to me."

"I am not convinced that this actually affects the Amazons, my dear. According to Diana, Bruce was never any threat to undermining your plans for their future, or hers. It seems to me that you are the one overstepping yourself."

"To further prove that point," Aphrodite said, "if you'd allow me to adjust the setting on your tv's for a moment." Aphrodite then waved one hand over Clark and Bruce and stepped back, allowing everyone a clear view.

And what a view it was. Their bodies glowed softly with a matching deep blue light while a light pink string wrapped around their bodies, seeming to tie them together. Where their bodies touched, there was a blurring of lines, almost as if they were flowing into one another.

"As I've been trying to tell you all, Bruce has absolutely no romantic interest in Diana. Nor will he ever."

"A perfect match," Athena murmured, shocked.

"That doesn't matter!" Ares shouted, moving towards Clark and Bruce, intent on separating them. "I was promised Bruce Wayne. He is owed to me, and I have laid my claim on him. Soul mate or not, he belongs to me!"

Ares was concentrated solely on ripping Bruce from Clark; he thus did not see Athena's approach until it was too late. Lightning-quick, she grabbed Ares by the throat and threw him aside, using his own momentum against him. "No, Ares."

"Enough," Hera stood from her thrown, glaring down at the others. "Ares is correct. He was promised the mortal. Nothing I have heard or seen gives me cause to rescind this gift."

"I will become mortal."

All eyes turned to Diana with this announcement.

"What?" Hera shouted.

"I will give up my immortality; I will become mortal, if you do not free Bruce from Ares' grasp. I had never planned on giving up anything, for him or anyone else. I know where my duty lies, and I was intent on fulfilling that duty. But Bruce is an innocent. He is undeserving of such a fate. I cannot serve a goddess who would allow this travesty to occur. Especially when she claims it was done in my honor."

"Watch yourself, daughter. You come very close to crossing the line."

"That is my intent. I have worshipped you faithfully for years, and this is how you repay me? First by doubting my commitment to my sisters, then by enslaving my brother. I cannot, I will not allow this to happen. If you do not reverse your current course, I will have no choice but to leave the Amazons."

"Diana, I only do this for you –"

"No. You refuse to listen. You are the most dire threat to my immortality, not Bruce."

Hera stared down at Diana. "You place far too much weight on your own worth."

"Considering _you_ continue to claim that this was somehow for my benefit, I would say I place just enough weight on it."

Hera paused again. "You will vow to remain true to your Amazon sisters."

"If you agree to do no harm to me and mine," Diana confirmed.

"You can't do this, mother!"

"Silence, Ares! You try my patience. The mortal is to be given back to his mate. I will hear no more of this. Be gone."

With a single gesture, Ares disappeared. "He will not give up so easily," Hera said, meeting Clark's eyes. "Bind your mate to you, as closely as you can."

"I will… consider your advice," Clark replied, still angry, but not willing to risk upsetting the goddess when things seemed to be going their way. "But what about his memories?" he asked, curling back around Bruce. "He can't keep them. He won't survive them."

"I have done enough. The deal has been made, and my part of it met." So saying, Hera left the room, leaving only a wisp of smoke behind.

Before Clark could become too agitated, a calm voice called out, "Mnemosyne, Lethe."

Two goddesses appeared before Zeus, as different as night and day. One was tall and willowy with golden skin. Her blonde hair flowed freely down her back. She was dressed in an ethereal, light green gown. Her companion was petite and pale as snow, with pitch black hair kept up in a complicated braid. She wore leather pants and vest, also black in color. Both goddesses knelt before Zeus silently.

"This mortal," Zeus explained, gesturing to Bruce, "is suffering from a series of memories. Fix it."

They both nodded and rose, walking over to Bruce and Clark then kneeling again. Each goddess placed one hand on opposite sides of Bruce's head at his temples and closed their eyes.

Several minutes passed. Finally the two opened their eyes and looked up at Zeus.

"I cannot cause him to forget, without taking all his memories from him," Lethe advised.

Then Mnemosyne spoke. "The recreating of the universe allowed for unique magics to be used before, to transfer the memories to another. That option is no longer available to me."

"Please," Clark choked, squeezing Bruce in his arms, "there must be something you can do. _Please_."

The goddesses of memory and forgetfulness regarded each other, seeming to have a silent conversation only they could understand. Then they began to speak.

"To barrier away these memories would only be a temporary solution."

"His mind is too driven and dynamic. He would sense the block, and attack it until he succeeded in breaking it down."

"Similarly, attempting to modify the memories would only delay the inevitable."

"But perhaps a controlled leak."

"A possibility. Likely the best chance for him to maintain sanity, short of erasing his mind entirely."

"What?" Clark asked, head moving back and forth between the two.

"I can place a block in his mind, to segregate these thoughts from the rest."

"But rather than a solid barrier, this would be porous, allowing the memories to slowly reintegrate with the rest of his mind at a controlled pace."

"As long as he is content to leave things as such, and does not attempt to bring back all of them at once, it should work."

"The slow, controlled flow would allow him time to process and deal with each event individually over time."

Clark looked up to Diana, not sure if they could truly trust these goddesses to do as they said.

"Do it," a quiet, reedy voice directed.

"Bruce?!" Clark exclaimed, looking down into somewhat coherent eyes.

"My choice. Do it."

"Diana?" Clark asked, still uncertain.

"We can trust them, Kal," she assured him. "They can do as they say. It might not work, but it won't be due to any duplicity on their part."

Taking a deep breath, Clark nodded his head. "All right. Ok." Turning to the goddesses still kneeling beside him, he affirmed, "Do it."

* * *

Superman quietly stepped into the observatory on the Justice League's space station, immediately making his way over to the shadows against the far viewing window. Coming up behind Batman, Superman wrapped his arms around his lover, pulling him into his chest.

"I've told you not to do that." Clark could clearly hear the smile in Bruce's voice, and he laughed at what had become Bruce's standard response for any sort of sneak attack – also known as hugs to most people.

"I'm not going through that _again_, Bruce," Clark playfully admonished,

"Hmm."

Sensing his partner's mood darkening, Clark asked, "Are you all right?"

Bruce paused for a second, but after a year and a half Clark had manage to beat down most of his defenses. "Another memory came through. I think I'm nearing the end. You were in this one. And zombie clowns."

Clark tensed, wishing he could have taken these memories from his time with Emperor Joker completely away from Bruce as well. Not that Bruce hadn't given him an earful when he figured out that Clark had had the Spectre transfer Bruce's first set of memories to Clark. Bruce had actually refused to speak to him for almost two month outside of Justice League missions. But Clark had refused to be ignored, letting the image of them under Aphrodite's spell give him hope and patience. After the first memory of violence and pain and torment returned to Bruce, he came to understand why Clark had made the decision he did. Eventually, Bruce forgave him, and Clark had been there to help him through all the rest. It hadn't been easy, but they were getting through them one at a time.

"Thank you," Bruce's quiet words broke Clark's contemplation.

_For not giving up on me._

_For not letting me give up on you._

_For being your usual, stubborn self._

_For just being you._

"Clark… thank you."

* * *

_**Footnotes:**_

1 – Basic plot for "Gods of Gotham" can be found here.

2 - Basic plot for "Emperor Joker" can be found here (fifth paragraph down).

3 – This is a direct quote from "Emperor Joker" from DC.


End file.
